Ocean's Legend Rising
by Deepclaw
Summary: -POTC Crossover- When Megatron takes his fight to the sea with the intent to destroy the Earth through its oceans, an old pirate's legend stirs to fight back. Discontinued.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers, or the characters, (except Amy and her mom, Mary Porter) and I also don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or Disney's version of myjthical characters and stuff. I wish I did. But hey.

**Title:** Ocean Legend Rising(Title might change.)

**Summary:** (POTC Crossover)

When Megatron takes his fight to the sea with the intent to destroy the Earth through its oceans, a pirate's legend stirs to fight back.

**A/N:** O_O Wow, horrible summary, but the one I had in mind would be too much for this little thing. ._.

This is a little something I wrote up in the last couple hours as I procrastinate doing a couple homeworks/artworks. _ Yeah, I know, get ta work, ya slimey sea snake!

But I thought I'd post this first. ;D

Typos and loose details and poor construction or something is probably abound, so critique would be greatly appreciated. Pretty much: What can I do to make it better? n_n

Author's Discussion at the bottom.

**Edit:** I've decided to try to extend the story. n_n This is the Prologue, and, after this, things start to pick up. :3 The Summary has been updated to go along with it. :3 It might change again to match better.

Enjoy!

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A dark night, the moon a mere slit in the sky and clouds stretched into mere wisps, still thick enough to cover the stars in a silent fog. The cozy little house settled into the nearly treeless land below this sky looked cheery in the darkness, with one little lamp lit outside, and one little bedroom window glowing inside. This house was still, as if it was sleepy, but its residents were not afraid of the quiet darktime. In fact, their only focus was each other.

Sarah Lennox entered her daughter's room, a thick blue book in her hand. True, many parents no longer read their children good night stories, or told them the legendary and completely false tales their parents or their parents' parents told their children, but Sarah was not one of them. She believed that, even though the stories were only stories, sharing them taught her daughter to read and to make good choices and be herself. Bedtime stories were not just fantasy, to her. They were educational experiences disguised as words on a page and bound into a colorful book. She certainly always enjoyed stories, and even though these tales were proven false, unlikely, or based on biased or misinterpreted real events later in life, an important part of childhood, she thought, was letting the imagination run free. This blue book contained 100 short stories she knew Annabelle Lennox loved and she intended to read at least one as she promised her she would every night her father wasn't home.

But tonight, her daughter had decided, was going to be different.

"Mommy?" the girl asked the moment she saw her mother. She had on her pale blue nightgown, tiny violets dotting the garment, that flared just right when she spun in circles and pooled onto the floor perfectly when she sat amongst her dolls. It was her favorite. "Can we read a different story tonight?"

"Sure, baby," her mother smiled. "We have like 30 left in this book that we still haven't read." Sarah flipped through the pages as she sat on the side of the child's bed.

Her daughter pet a stuffed rabbit's head and kissed his nose, her face peaceful but also… curious? Daring? Excited?

"No, I mean… Well, could you tell me the story you heard from Grampa again?" she asked sweetly.

Sarah glanced at her and tilted her head to the side as she attempted to comprehend her baby's request. "Which one, sweetie?"

Annabelle's eyes looked straight into Sarah's, brightly lit from within. The determinedly excited look was sharpened tenfold, so it was no longer a question that she wanted to hear one thing tonight and _only_ that one thing.

The little girl leaned forward, her golden hair, not as light as her mother's but lighter than her father's, falling from her shoulders to frame her wide blue eyes, "The Tale of Davy Jones," she whispered so quietly.

Sarah, having been caught up in the intensity of her daughter's gaze, had found herself leaning forward too, and even then barely heard the girl's half frightened, half awe-filled tone. When it registered, however, she pulled back with a light, but kind laugh.

"Annie, you've heard that story countless times!" she grinned, pushing the girl's hair back around her ears.

"I know but that was weeks ago! I want to hear it now!" the girl squealed. She wiggled in her sheets, her rabbit, Bozo, as well as her raccoon, Isaac, nearly falling onto the floor. She caught them in a hurry, and apologized to them as she tucked them in again, but a grin still tugged at her lips.

"What's gotten you into pirates all of a sudden?" Sarah giggled, a little unsure about telling that story for the millionth or so time.

"You tell it so good, Mommy! And it's… And…"

Annabelle's grin grew even wider, but the respect and fear she had for the story was reflected in every one of her features as she leaned forward again. No other tale got Annabelle so riled. And it wasn't because it was about princesses with long hair or dragons sparing a knight his life or fairies and bunnies or Kings with invisible clothes. It was simply because, as tragic as the whole thing was, "It was _true_," she whispered in reverence.

Sarah was still smiling, but she was also uncomfortable. The woman thought a little girl should be allowed to dream whatever she wanted, as long as she knew real life didn't work the same way and could operate well in both worlds, so to speak. Annabelle's interest in the story, however, scared her on some level. It revealed Annabelle's maturity, for one. Her sympathy for a man gone rogue because of a betrayal that hurt him and caused him to ache to his core spoke volumes of her compassion. Her awe of his abilities, his nature, his purpose, revealed an understanding of duty her father had surely rubbed off on her, as well as a deep respect for power greater than herself. And her understanding of what that power could do to a person, inside and out, and what it could do to others, was clear in her reactions to various events in the story. Who knew children understood so much with such clarity? They certainly didn't. They took information about the world, absorbed it, and as they came to understand it, they related to it and put it into practice in some way. Annabelle didn't see that her being so grown up already, even at six years of age, made her mother marvel, or realize its importance, but it was there. Sarah was both pleased with this, but also disappointed – would her baby grow up so soon?

But there was more than just her daughter's development, and her own somewhat selfish desire to keep her child's innocent intelligence intact.

She also felt uncomfortable because of what Annabelle had said. Was it true? Sarah didn't think so. She supposed a man could become like the mythical captain, but the events of his tale weren't possible. Goddesses? Hearts being cut out? Fish-pirates? Sarah didn't believe it, not one bit.

In fact, she would have told Annabelle it absolutely _wasn't_ true, and was _only_ a myth, if not for one thing: Her own_ father _said it was true too. Mr. James Hayden. In fact, his exact words to her, a year after Annabelle was born and just before he died soon after he said them, were, 'Sarah, you used to believe, but you've grown up and now you don't. Such a conclusion is reasonable, especially in today's day and age, but I know it's true.' He'd gotten close then, his old voice sincere. 'If the look in my father's eyes was any indication, his father knew it was true, and his mother knew it was true, all the way back to our ancestor who experienced the tale for himself so long ago.' And James Hayden had given Sarah Hayden a handwritten booklet with the story detailed on its pages and a gift fresh out of Sarah's childhood she'd completely forgotten, to be given to Annabelle while 'her heart is still pure and her mind was still open. Never forget and never let her forget. It might be important some day.'

Sarah had, honestly, only grinned and nodded at this, respecting her father's wishes. Dad was stern, but open minded and duty-driven. Like Will. But occasionally…he had his odd moments. And the determination in his stance when he handed her the book, and the fire in his eyes as he placed the gift into Sarah's hands when she was little girl and more recently as a grown woman with a baby in her arms, as if it was solid proof of an octopus-man's existence, could not be ignored.

Either it was true, or someone had seriously impressed this story like fact into the man's head.

Or he was secretly insane.

So, when the time came that the little girl and her mother ran out of books to read and Sarah's imagination abandoned her, she decided to tell the story, and, ever since then, Annabelle was fascinated. Every night she asked Sarah to recite it, again and again, her mother's only reprieve coming when she'd bought the book of 100 Tall Tales and Annie found new interest in goblins and unicorns. They even reread some stories as Annie wanted, with no mention of pirates anywhere.

Tonight, however, Cinderella would have to wait.

Sarah blinked and looked away briefly, buying an extra moment to decide her next action. There was no way around it. Her blue-eyed baby wanted a dramatic tale about a man from myth, a myth Sarah had never heard anywhere or even found on the internet when she'd gotten curious and looked it up. It was possible Dad had simply written it himself but for what purpose? He always seemed more stable than most people these days, even in his old age. And what about the gift? It was completely unique, none other like it, covered in barnacles and hardened sand, but completely functional. And still haunting. Sarah's gut was heavy with some kind of weight, but she couldn't place it. Instead, another glance at her little girl and her mind was made up.

"Alright…Alright…" she conceded.

"Yayyy!!" Annabelle cried, and she threw herself back into her pillows and cuddled into her comforter, pulling the blankets around her tight. By the time she settled in, her face was almost grim, ready to listen to every detail, and Sarah was sitting cross-legged next to her. She didn't need the little booklet, she knew the story by heart by now, but she wondered if she should give the gift yet or even if she should at all. Supporting a child's imagination was a good thing, she knew…but supporting it too much…

She began to speak, using hand gestures and adding some dialogue to a dialogue-less, vague, but oddly detailed, tale and as she spoke, her uncertainty waned as she once again witnessed her daughter's amazement, interest, understanding, compassion, and all the intelligence those traits indicated. If Annabelle wanted to believe, why should she keep it from her? One day, perhaps soon, maybe later, maybe never at all, she'll sort it out for herself. Sarah should trust her, and she should trust herself, and Will, in her parenting. Sarah Lennox had the duty to _guide_ her child's imagination and resulting understanding of the world, not _dictate_ them, and that's what she'd do.

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The next day, Sarah saw Annabelle off with Mary Porter, the Lennox's half-a-mile-away neighbor and friend, who often drove Annabelle to school with her own daughter, Amy, on her way to work. Sarah, left free to start her own work, set her den-turned-art-studio up, and began working on her latest commission, a large portrait of an old man, his wife, and their dogs. Upon completion, she'd ship it and receive three hundred bucks for it. Easy money. And there were more portraits to come. Sure, her 'job' wasn't at a company or a much needed notch to fill, but people wanted portraits, she had connections (and artistic skill), and she made money doing it for her family. It wasn't the most interesting thing to paint, and she had an interest more in photography, but she was good and enjoyed the peace that settled over her house and in her heart when she mixed oils and layered acrylics.

This day, she was finishing the old man's face. The nose just wasn't quite right, something about the shading, or perhaps the shape of the nostril. She glanced over the picture she'd received as reference, and looked back to the painting. Finally spotting the mistake, she moved her brush in to add a soft stroke of rose pink in the right place –

"YOU GOT MAIL!"

- and smudged the nose in surprise at the automated yell. She cursed. Why was it she always forgot to turn the volume down on her laptop before signing into AOL? And this laptop was _loud_ in the silence of her lonesome. The male voice had startled her, but she recovered and walked over to the silver computer. Sitting, she found one new message in her inbox (she always kept it empty if she could help it). It was from Mary, who was probably at work and secretly signed into her personal email account. Sarah shook her head. How many times has Mary worried aloud that her boss would catch her one of these days?

She clicked it and read, her brows furrowing and a slightly amused smirk inching up her face.

**Title: Davy Jones?**

**From: MaryPr**

**To: SarahL**

_Sarah, I don't mean to pry, but Annabelle was all about Davy Jones this morning. She said you told her stories and it was her favorite and she loved it and all this stuff, but she wouldn't sit still long enough for me to understand. She was blabbing worse about him than Sleeping Beauty! What happened? o_O Is this the same Davy Jones as in Pirate tales? LOL! Sorry, hon, I just think it's funny you'd be telling her about pirates. It doesn't seem to be your (or her) thing! xD Should I be prepared to hear about Mr. Jones from my Amy too? _

Sarah shook her head again and laughed quietly before replying.

**Title: Re: Davy Jones?**

**From: SarahL **

**To: MaryPr**

_Lol, I'm not sure if Amy will be into it, but Annabelle is hooked. I heard the story from my father, who heard it from his father, who heard it from his mother, and so on, through my family. It's a family story but it's just a tale. Albeit, one that has no equal. It's kind of weird;, I looked it up and this Davy Jones has quite the legend, but no one seems to have the same story I do. They often stop short, while mine continues.. I think my family, at some point, were fishermen and they came up with their own edition, lol! I wasn't sure about telling it, since Annie gets so excited, but I figure that someday she'll discover it's not true. Like Santa Claus. Although, Santa Claus was easier for her to disprove than a mysterious sea captain, lol. (See definition: The kids at school spoiled the fun.)_

Not long afterwards, "YOU GOT MAIL!" and Sarah rushed forwards to turn down the volume after starting worse than she had before. She sighed and rolled her eyes slightly at herself for having forgotten _again_.

**Title: Re: Davy Jones?**

**From: MaryP**

**To: SarahL**

_n_n I agree, Amy's more into magic animals than magic people. Especially ones with a bad reputation among sailors, of all people. It's so cool that you have a family tale! It seems silly but I wish I had one! You never know, Sarah, there might be truth somewhere. xD _

_You mind writing me a summary? Now you got me interested!_

Sarah paused, hesitant, but, then, unsure why she was hesitant. She remembered her father's truthful, fiery gaze, and wondered at his warning that some day it might be important, then dismissed it. Everyone had their own hang ups. Just so happened that Dad's involved fish people and the undead. She typed.

**Title: Re: Davy Jones?**

**From:SarahL**

**To: MaryPr**

_You _should_ be working. =_= lol_

_Anyways, here it is in a nutshell:_

Sarah went on to recount the tale of a man, his goddess, and her betrayal, which led to his betrayal, which led to pain and suffering and the poor man cutting out his heart and how who had the heart controlled Davy Jones. Which then led on to things not mentioned in any site she'd found on the internet explaining the story – not even Wikipedia had anything about the East India Trading Company and their campaign to rule the seas by using Davy Jones and his Kraken, or young pirates with older pirate friends with weird compasses and how stabbing the heart meant immortality and a duty to tend lost souls at sea and one day on land for every ten years and other details, like how Davy Jones's face was like an octopus, and he had a crab leg and crab claw and piercing blue eyes. The story was strangely vague, with occasional spots of great detail, like the man's description, as if written by someone who was there but couldn't remember anything like dialogue. An odd thing was that the gift her father had given her was mentioned, but only briefly, and the connection to the overall story wasn't clear. As if whoever wrote it or made it up, didn't understand it either, or left it out purposefully for some reason to move on with the tale. . . Or maybe the booklet as written far more recently than it looked and somewhere along the verbal way, details were fogged or left out completely. That was likely – oral tales tended to lose accuracy over time…

_Sorry, Mary, I would stop there, but there's just a little more! God, I should just refuse and make you get to work! ;D Now you'll be all about pirates now! xD_

_But, anyway, the part that gets Annie really going is this:_

_Years later, the goddess Calypso allowed Captain Turner to return to his mortal life, his duties having been attended to with precision and dedication, despite him missing his friends and a loved one. This love, a woman named Elizabeth, remained faithful to him, always, and so Calypso allowed them to return to each other. How people found out what a mighty goddess did and said on your average day, is beyond me, lol, but still. The goddess still wished for someone to ferry the dead and her feelings still lingered, so she brought Davy Jones back from death, gave him his crew, (a surprising few remained faithful to him), gave him his immortality and almost all the powers of the sea, more power than he had before, and let him free. His cruel deeds and past caused him to become inhuman, and this could not be undone, not even by Calypso, but the sea was a part of him and he was part of it, forever and ever, so he remained all sea creatureish. Apparently, the sea goddess abandoned him once more, her fickle nature and the expansion of the human race and their activity on the seas and other, more cosmic reasons, causing her to pull away, but he remains on Earth, a powerful Ocean god or spirit, the story isn't clear, and as time went on, he seemed to disappear from men's lips and their hearts learned to fear other things. _

_I really don't know if that's supposed to be a happy ending. Apparently, he roams around alone and lonely but with a lot of power and he does stuff, but that's not the usual happy ending Annie likes. What she likes so much, though, is that the story is supposedly true and that Davy Jones still exists and he's out there somewhere._

_I just gave a halfhearted summary, it's actually pretty engaging when you hear the whole thing in more detail. n_n Maybe you can sleep over tonight and I'll read the story to you instead of her. xD _

She clicked Send.

**Title: Re: Davy Jones?**

**From:MaryPr**

**To:SarahL**

_O_O Wow.. xD _

_I'd like to hear more! Your summary leaves a lot to be desired (nudgenudge) but it sounds interesting. And don't worry, I have my own bed with my own little girl to handle, I don't need a story read to me. xD I prefer my chicklit books to pirates anyway. ;)_

_I'll be coming over after work, btw, I got some pizza through the Company we can dine on with the girls tonight! Oh, when does Will get back, by the way? I know David won't be home til Friday. Those business trips drive me nuts sometimes._

_One more question – Annie wouldn't stop talking about a 'gift' you gave her last night. When I asked what it was, she said it's something special and she wants to keep it to herself for now. It was quite…a mature gesture. lol So, once again, I don't mean to pry and I respect it if you can't tell me, but gah! I want to know! What is it? _

Sarah replied some time later, having wandered back to her painting while waiting for the reply, and, with the volume muted, she didn't get the usually loud notice. Her painting finished and the time nearing the end of the school day, she checked her computer and replied before going to pick up their daughters. She typed quickly, keys held in her left hand and attempting to fit on her shoes without looking.

**Title: Re: Davy Jones?**

**From:SarahL**

**To:MaryPr**

_Lol okay! And pizza sounds great! I didn't really want to cook tonight anyway. Lucky break, hm?_

_Will comes home in two weeks. Another classified mission, but at least it's in the States, as far as I know. He usually packs a bit more when he's going international and prepares himself for jet lag. Counting the days! :D _

_The gift was something my father gave me when I was little. I remember being fascinated by it as a little girl, but I grew out of it. Mostly because it sent shivers down my back. I kept it, though. And took care of it. The way Dad treated it, it might as well be pure gold! _

_It's a silver locket, the shape a cross between a heart and a crab, and when you open it, it plays the most beautiful, most haunting melody I've ever heard._

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**Author's Discussion:** I'm not one to write random crossovers and stuff. I prefer to write in-universe, but …. Well. Pirates of the Caribbean got me back into Beast Wars, so in a way, to me, the two fandoms are connected. :D I also saw the movie a couple days ago and wanted to write Jones. In this case, I have brought POTC into Transformers, Movieverse. I didn't think it could be done, but my imagination ran with it anyways. I lurv Davy Jones and I really like the thought of him still being around today, and stuff. I also like the idea, which comes from Final Fantasy 7, that the Earth might, itself, fight, if ever it was in danger. It might not happen, but you never know, right? I won't give ideas away, except for that random statement, but if I continue, it'll be something to do with that.

Oh, extra note: if you've added me to your alert list or something because of Beast Wars: Deep Impact, I just want you all to know – I did NOT give up on that fic. xD I've gotten stuck and while I want to continue, I've been trying to formulate exactly how to get out of this rut I got stuck in. Meanwhile, I wrote this. Hee

To be honest, I was unsure about this fic, as this is my first crossover and a crazy one at that, but I do have my reasons for why it could be possible and whatever. To be expained later.

Feedback and comments are always welcome! Keep an eye out for an update! n_n


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